


Sick Day

by quinn_rossi



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Biting, D/s, Handcuffs, I think?, M/M, Marking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 14:10:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15317184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinn_rossi/pseuds/quinn_rossi
Summary: Mickey calls in sick. Ian, his boss, comes to check up on him and discovers he's lying. Ian punishes him for that.





	Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> If by some miracle, you recognise this, then hey! I wrote something very similar for the dbh fandom yesterday, but I loved the idea so much I just had to Gallavich-ify it ;)

Mickey had only been working as Ian Gallagher’s personal assistant for two months and he was already exhausted by it. The guy was demanding as all fuck, and always calling him when he wasn’t working.

Mickey hadn’t quit for two reasons:

One, Gallagher was rich. Mickey’s pay was the best he had ever had in a legit job, and whenever Ian sent him out to buy his lunch, Mickey got to keep the change. (He usually gave him a twenty for a six dollar meal…)

And two, Ian Gallagher was ridiculously hot.

It was no surprise this tall, ginger, well-built god was the spotlight of Mickey’s wet dreams.

If he was to quit his job, he’d run out of quality wank material. Everyday he worked there, he ended up getting more and more material. Ian’s often commanding and determined tone made Mickey’s heart race.

But this guy had worn him out.

Mickey decided when he woke up that he’d take a ‘sick day’.

He rang Ian’s mobile and he picked up after two dial tones.

“Hello, Milkovich. Care to explain why you’re not at work?”

Mickey did two loud fake coughs and weakly replied, “Sorry, Gallagher. I’m sick, I don’t think I can come in.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, however, the final copy of the letter for the commissioner is due today. Since we’ve been working on it together, I think we should finish it together.”

Mickey groaned and then did another cough to cover his annoyance. “I emailed everything you’ll need for it yesterday.”

“Hmm,” Ian hummed. “I’ll come visit and we can complete it in your home. It’s urgent, Milkovich.

“No no no no, don’t do that! You might get sick as well?”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied. “I’ll be over in an hour.”

Ian hung up.

Fuck.  
___

Mickey was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He rubbed his eyes roughly and messed his hair a little to make it look like he was sick.

There was a sharp knock on the door.

Mickey opened the door and his breath hitched at the sight.

It was just Ian in his usual three piece. But the fact that he was at his apartment, and Mickey was just wearing casual clothes, made him look even better.

Ian raised an eyebrow at Mickey. “I know you said you’re sick, Milkovich, but you could have at least gotten dressed.”

“Sorry,” Mickey found himself saying, a word he’d never say to anyone but Ian and his cold green eyes.

Mickey stepped aside to let Ian in. He closed the door and turned around, but he couldn’t go anywhere because Ian was stood barely inches away from him.

“You sure you’re sick? You don’t look very sick,” Ian said.

Mickey faked some coughing and nodded, “I’m sick.”

“I’m a very busy man, Milkovich, you know that. I don’t have to time to play lie detector.”

“If you’re so busy, maybe you should take a fuckin’ break,” Mickey defensively snapped.

Fuck. Why the fuck did he just talk to his boss like that.

Ian smirked a little and tilted his head slightly. He took a small step forward, forcing Mickey to step so his back was pressed against the door.

“I suppose you’re right,” Ian started, “Maybe I should take a break.”

“Y-yeah, maybe,” Mickey stammered and nodded, unable to take his eyes away from Ian’s.

Ian suddenly grabbed Mickey’s wrist and pressed his thumb down slightly and hummed, smirking at the quickening of the pulse.

“I don’t have time for games, _Mickey_. Now tell me, are you really sick?”

Mickey bit his lip and shook his head, “No.”

“Oh dear,” Ian tutted. “You lied about being sick to get away from work? Boss driving you mad, huh?”

Mickey stared, mouth slightly open, completely shocked and unsure what was happening. This weirdly felt like one of his too-many dreams he had had.

“That was very bad of you, Milkovich. Maybe if you just told me the truth, then I would have been kind…But instead, you’ve been naughty, and naughty boys should be punished.”

Mickey gulped back a whimper. No way was this happening. No way was his incredibly hot boss about to fulfill his fantasies.

“What do you think, Mickey?” Ian asked.

“I- fuck - I-” Mickey couldn’t think of anything to say. The only thing he really wanted to do was drop to his knees there and then and beg him to fuck him. But he liked where Ian seemed to be going.

Ian dropped Mickey’s wrist, and instead of Mickey just letting his hand fall to his side, he found himself accidentally grabbing ahold of Ian’s expensive, silky tie.

“What do you think, Mickey,” Ian repeated. “Should naughty boys be punished?”

Mickey nodded and mouthed a soundless ‘yes’. He felt as if he was in some kind of trance, his whole body was controlled by desire.

“Follow,” Ian said and turned around, walked off and went into the bedroom with Mickey following him like a puppy.

Once inside the bedroom, Ian hummed as he looked around. He then opened Mickey’s bedside drawer and let a triumphant, “Ha!”

Mickey’s face turned red and warm, knowing exactly what his _boss_ had found in that drawer.

When Ian turned back around to Mickey, he was dangling a pair of handcuffs from one of his fingers.

“These could be useful, don’t you think?”

Mickey nodded and watched as Ian looked Mickey up and down.

“Strip,” he demanded.

Mickey almost immediately pulled his t-shirt off his head, chucked it aside, and then dropped his sweatpants off with them.

Ian raised his brow at him, “Commando, Milkovich?”

“Wasn’t plannin’ on leavin’ the house,” Mickey shrugged.

Ian chuckled quietly and then walked behind Mickey. He grabbed his wrists and handcuffed them behind his back.

They were tight and offered little movement, but as soon as Ian yanked the handcuffs back, forcing Mickey’s naked body to be pulled against Ian’s expensive suit, he forgot about the restriction and slight pain.

“Shit!” Mickey yelped as he felt teeth bite into the side of his neck. The teeth sunk deeper, the mouth sucked it slightly, and a little dribble of drool trickled down his neck.

When Ian pulled his mouth away, he grinned at the red and purple mark.

Ian wrapped a hand around Mickey’s body and grabbed the base of his cock, pumping it a couple of times to get it even harder.

His thumb swiped and teased the head of Mickey’s dick, making him bite back a whimper and press his naked body back against again’s clothed one.

As Ian continued to stroke him, Mickey discovered he did have a small slither of power: he pressed and rubbed his ass back and smirked to himself as felt Ian get bigger and harder.

Ian gave Mickey a slight push once he removed his hand, but still hooked his fingers around the cuffs to keep him close.

“Bend over the bed,” Ian instructed, still holding the cuffs as Mickey pressed his head down, presenting his ass to Ian.

Mickey held his breath as he felt a warm hand gently stroke his backside. Ian stopped to squeeze the thick flesh and gently slap it to watch it shake.

“Count,” Ian said as his hand left Mickey’s perfect ass.

He brought his hand back down with a hard slap.

“Oh fuck!” Mickey shouted, biting down hard at his lip.

“I said…” Ian slapped his ass hard again. “Count.”

Mickey nodded into the sheets and counted, “One.”

Ian hit his ass twice in quick succession, smirking at the way Mickey’s usually pale skin, filled with blood and turned pink.

“Two, three!” Mickey cried, his arms reflexed a little, making his hands pull against the cuffs, but Ian was making perfectly sure his hands weren’t going anywhere.

“You shouldn’t lie about being sick to get out of doing work.”

He slapped again.

“Four.”

“You shouldn’t lie about being sick to get out of work, Milkovich. You’re a very important asset to me. I _need _you.”__

__Slap._ _

__“Five.”_ _

__Slap._ _

__“Six.”_ _

__Slap._ _

__“S-seven.”_ _

__Mickey’s counts were sounding more strained. Tears stung the corners of his eyes. Each slap was more painful then the last, but he was determined to take everything Ian gave to him._ _

__When Ian’s hand lifted again, it didn’t come back down with a slap. Instead it went to Mickey’s hair and he tugged the dark strands, pulling his head up from the sheets._ _

__“Apologise,” he growled._ _

__“Fuck,” Mickey moaned, so so turned on by Ian at that moment. “I’m sorry.”_ _

__Ian dropped Mickey’s hair and then slapped him hard three quick times._ _

__“Eight. Nine. Ten!” Mickey choked out._ _

__“Apologise,” he commanded again._ _

__“Sorry! Sorry. I won’t lie about being sick. I won’t. I swear,” Mickey babbled, squeezing his eyes shut to stop himself from actually crying from the sting in his ass._ _

__“Thank you,” Ian said, his voice softer than before._ _

__He undid the handcuffs and let Mickey rub his wrists before turning to look up at Ian._ _

__“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Ian said and then turned to leave._ _

__“Wait, what the fuck?” Mickey yelled and motioned to his desperately hard and neglected cock._ _

__Ian huffed a laugh and shook his head. “You’ve been a naughty boy, Mickey. You don’t get to finish.”_ _

__And with that, he left._ _

**Author's Note:**

> ;)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it <3


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